


Remembering the Innocence

by honeyMellon



Category: Bleach
Genre: Complete, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 11:28:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyMellon/pseuds/honeyMellon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Juushirou remembers the awkward, nervous gait of the blonde former shinigami when he was first promoted as a captain. The man had been young, almost innocent-looking, then. But now, hardened by decades of exile, Urahara Kisuke is anything but innocent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Winter War was over. Finally, Aizen had been defeated and sealed away, and shall remain so for as long as Soul Society still exists. Seireitei, however, was still coming to terms with its casualties, the painful cost of the war. Every division in the Gotei 13 had lost people; good, brave warriors who gave their lives to protect and defend Soul Society and the world of the living. It would be a long, difficult path to recovery, but Ukitake Juushiro believed that they will, one day, look back to this day and feel proud of themselves, of the people who had sacrificed their lives to secure the future.

How ironic, though, that the person who ultimately took down Aizen was the one man that Soul Society had banished more than a century ago. An outcast, a brilliant scientist, former captain; Urahara Kisuke had been the most critical key to their victory in the war. Given, he was the man who invented the _hogyoku_ in the first place, but despite the treatment he had received from Soul Society, he remained an ally and fought by their side.

The new Center 46 had lifted the restrictive order on the man, and he was now free to enter Soul Society if he wishes to, but Juushiro knew that Urahara Kisuke would not take up the offer to return to the Gotei 13. He was now a free man, why would he want to be bound to such an old, stifling organization again?

"Ah, so many years have passed, and you still have the same faraway look in your eyes, _senpai_ ," a smooth, melodious voice interrupted Juushiro's thoughts. The white-haired captain turned to find the very man he was thinking about standing behind him, watching him with curious eyes and an upturned mouth.

"Kisuke-san," Juushiro said warmly. "Old people tend to look like that."

Kisuke laughed. "You have not changed one bit," he commented, taking in the older captain's long white hair, lean and graceful frame, and boyish eyes.

Juushiro noted the movement of the younger man's eyes, and surprised himself by feeling a slight flush on his own face. "And you've grown up," he replied, his voice laced with a touch of pride.

If Kisuke had noticed Juushiro's blush, he did not show it, nor did he protest the playful jab. Instead, he simply looked away and stared into the expansive lake before which they stood. The surface of the water gleamed under the evening sun, as if every sparkle of light was a promise, a promise of a better tomorrow. Juushiro found himself looking at the face of the man now standing next to him.

Juushiro remembered the awkward, nervous gait of the blonde former shinigami when he was first promoted as a captain. The man had been young, almost innocent-looking, then. But now, hardened by decades of exile, Urahara Kisuke was anything but innocent. Juushiro ached to lift the striped hat off and run his fingers through the shock of blond hair, to look deeply into those intelligent eyes, to assure Kisuke that he can trust him, that Juushiro would not abandon him like the rest of Gotei 13 had last time. Yet, as he looked into that guarded face, he knew that it would be a long, long time before Kisuke would ever allow himself to open his heart to believe anyone again.

"I know you fought for us," Kisuke said quietly, his voice deep and thoughtful.

The sudden unspoken display of gratitude caught Juushiro by surprise. Yes, he had fought for them. Back when Hirako Shinji, Muguruma Kensei, and the others were first discovered as unknown hybrids of _shinigami_ and hollow, back when Central 46 wanted to execute them, Juushiro had pleaded for their pardon. As had Kisuke. But their pleas were stubbornly denied, which ultimately led to the Vizards' escape and Kisuke's exile.

"I only wish I could've done more," Juushiro whispered, remembering the anguish from a century ago.

The younger man chuckled under his breath. Juushiro heard a hint of wistfulness, perhaps a little regret, and even guilt in that one soft sound. "Trust me, you have done enough." He lifted a hand to adjust his hat as he peered across the lake, as if he wanted to see what's beyond it. His brows furrowed against the sunlight despite the hat.

"My cottage is just a few minutes' walk away," Juushiro found himself saying. "The cold air is, I'm afraid, not good for me." He tried to sound nonchalant, fully expecting that Kisuke to decline the subtle invitation.

To his surprise, the blonde-haired man turned to him with a smile. "I wouldn't mind a cup of tea," he said.

Was it Juushiro's imagination, or was that a small glint of delight and relief in the man's eyes? "Certainly," Juushiro said, and spread his arms in a welcoming gesture. Pulling his hat lower—so low that Juushiro could no longer see his eyes, Kisuke nodded and followed.

As the sun cast its final rays onto the smooth surface of the water, the two men walked.


	2. Chapter 2

The room was silent except for the soft gurgling of boiling water, but the silence was soothing, comforting, even. Juushiro looked out through the window into the darkened sky and gave a contented sigh.

"Relieved that it's finally over?" Kisuke broke the silence.

"Yes," Juushiro replied, then took a sip from his tea cup. Looking up with an arched eyebrow, he asked, "Aren't you?"

Kisuke chuckled softly. "It is anything _but_ over, Ukitake-taicho." He leaned back against the smooth wall in Juushiro's cottage. "Trouble continues to brew, _senpai_. We just don't know when it will hit us."

Juushiro sighed at the younger man's cynical view. "Kisuke-san," he said after a pause. "Such is the cycle of life. We just have to stay strong through it all." He threw a sidelong glance at Kisuke; his hair was matted and messy now that the hat was finally taken off, his face partially covered with blond stubble. His gaze was calm, but Juushiro could see a touch of sadness tugging at the corner of those grey eyes.

"Always the optimist, _senpai_ ," Kisuke said. He paused for a long time, as if unsure of what to say next. Just as Juushiro thought of offering him more tea, he finally said, "It has been a long time since I've been here."

"Yes." Juushiro gently tipped the teapot to refill their cups. "How is it, living out there?" he asked carefully, watching the younger man's face for any sign of discomfort. He suspected that no one had dared to bring up this subject with Kisuke, but he was curious.

For a fleeting moment, Kisuke's eyes darkened. Then, he broke into a big grin. "Exciting," he said, the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes evident. "Ahhh...Karakura town, it gets all the action. What do you expect, with Kurosaki there and all."

Juushiro brought his cup to his mouth and inhaled the calming aroma of green tea. "Indeed," he said with a smile, thinking of the stubborn, hot-blooded orange-haired boy. "They're lucky that they have you there."

Kisuke cocked an eyebrow and looked at the white-haired captain in amusement. _Are you kidding me?_

Juushiro could see the unspoken question in the man's eyes, and he burst out in hearty laughter. His laughter eventually tapered off into breathy pants as his lungs struggled to keep up with the sudden exertion. For a moment, Kisuke looked as if he was going to rush to Juushiro's side, then, remembering that the older man did not like to be treated like a patient, he retracted his arm and sank back down on his heels.

Juushiro chuckled softly as he regained control of his breath. "I will live," he said finally. Kisuke's brows relaxed, and he leaned back against the wall once more.

Silence overcame the little cottage again, and for a while the two men simply sat there. A light breeze blew in through the window, and Juushiro watched as a few stray strands of blond hair became plastered on Kisuke's cheek. Once again, Juushiro was suddenly reminded of the man's younger days, when he had cared more about the scientific research in his lab than keeping up his appearance. On some days, the former 12th division captain would walk around with his haori inside-out, much to his lieutenant's chagrin. Back then, Kisuke looked more like an academy student than a full fledged captain; young, full of ambitions, and easy-going with his subordinates. In fact, he remembered a story Hirako told a long time ago, about how Kisuke allowed himself to take a hit from Hiyori—

Suddenly realizing that he had been staring, Juushiro snapped out of his thoughts, only to stare into a pair of questioning grey eyes. Juushiro felt a sudden rush of heat on his neck and cheeks.

"Is something wrong?" Kisuke asked, rubbing his hand on his face. "Something on my face?"

Feeling sheepish, Juushiro busied himself with his teacup. "Nothing, just recalling some old memories."

"Ah." Kisuke fell silent after that, but Juushiro thought he caught a brief narrowing of eyes. Clearly the man did not appreciate talking about old times.

"You made a fine captain, Kisuke-san," Juushiro said, choosing his words carefully.

There, those eyes narrowed again, this time not so subtly. "I'm afraid my sentiments about those times...differ quite drastically from yours, Ukitake-taicho," Kisuke said, his voice tight. Juushiro sensed the tension in the younger man's body, his _reiatsu_ radiating a silent warning. _Do not talk to me about that again_.

Juushiro ignored it. He refused to let this man rob himself of his own merits. "You must look past the thorns and see the flower, Kisuke-san," he said gently.

Across the low table, Kisuke bristled for a split second, then he was all smiles again. Juushiro sighed inwardly. How ironic, he thought sadly. All this time we were so preoccupied with hollows and their masks...

Juushiro swallowed a mouthful of tea, swirling his tongue to savor the slightly bitter, grassy flavor of the hot liquid. He glanced at the blond-haired man and opened his mouth to speak, then suddenly, his eyes widened and his brows furrowed as he felt an oncoming bout of coughing fit. His hand flew instinctively to his mouth as his windpipe seized up. His vision blurred and the world swam in and out of darkness as his shoulders shook. His stomach ached as fierce, dry coughs racked his body until he tasted the familiar metallic tang of blood in the back of his throat.

He vaguely heard a voice calling out his name and speaking, but he was too far gone, his mind too exhausted to process the words. He felt his shoulders enveloped by strong, warm hands, but all he could do was wheeze and cough. Warm blood flooded his mouth; he tried to hold it in but his facial muscles were too weak. A warm trickle escape his lips, over his fingers, and down his chin. _Breathe. I can't...breathe._

Then, suddenly, it was over. He sagged forward, limbs trembling, chest ablaze. He braced himself for the painful fall to the floor that he always experienced when he collapses after these coughing fits, but noted through a haze of pain that...he did not fall.

 _Oh. How warm_.

Then, there was darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

There was brightness; flickering, soft light, swimming in and out of focus in front of his eyes. Wincing at the tightness of his throat, Juushiro blinked. He was surprised to find himself on his back, immediately recognizing the familiar softness of his own mattress.

" _Senpai_."

Blinking again to clear his vision, Juushiro turned to see Kisuke sitting cross-legged next to his bed. The blond-haired man did not say anything else, but Juushiro saw a gleam of relief in those grey eyes.

"How long..." Juushiro's voice came out raspy, his throat dry and sore from coughing. His mouth held the bitter aftertaste of dried blood. Before he could ask for water, a pair of hands brought a cup to his mouth. He looked up gratefully at Kisuke, who simply smiled at him in encouragement. Sitting up, Juushiro wrapped his trembling fingers around the small cup, sighing at the comforting warmth in his hand.

"One hundred years, and they haven't cured you," Kisuke said dryly.

Juushiro sipped in silence, letting the strong taste of herbs wash away the last traces of the disgusting, metallic tang of blood from his mouth. He smiled inwardly at Kisuke's thoughtfulness and wondered how the man knew to use this tea; he always kept a tin of this on his shelf specially for these...occasions, and he was under the impression that only his old friend, Shunsui, knew about it.

As if he could read Juushiro's mind, Kisuke glanced towards the kitchen. "I assumed you would be well prepared," he said. "You were out for just a little over half an hour."

"I'm sorry for the trouble," Juushiro said apologetically as he placed the tea cup on the floor.

"Nonsense," Kisuke said, waving his hand dismissively. _I'm glad you're okay._

Feeling self-conscious, Juushiro's hand went to his face to wipe his mouth, but to his surprise, his hand came away clean. In fact, his _hand_ was clean; there was not a single spot of blood on his pale, graceful fingers.

"I hope you don't mind..." Kisuke said, his face suddenly boyish from awkwardness. He gestured to a small bucket against the wall, a piece of blood-smeared cloth lay folded on the rim.

Juushiro blushed, and his fists clenched subconsciously. _Why am I always such a bother to people around me?_ he thought, more than a little frustrated. He was a powerful and much revered captain, but whenever his illness struck, he was as helpless as a child, and he hated that with a passion. His cheeks burned even more as he realized that his robe, too, was spotless; it appeared that Kisuke had explored more than the kitchen.

"I'm so sorry," Juushiro said, his voice trembling slightly. _Pathetic. I'm such a_ —

Kisuke moved closer and laid a reassuring hand on the older man's shoulder. "Please," he said gently. "There is nothing to apologize for."

So warm, Juushiro marveled. Kisuke's palm was...surprisingly smooth for someone who was so skilled a swordsman. Perhaps he had not used his sword much after... His heart ached a little. _What else have we stripped from this man?_

Kisuke's touch lingered for just a heartbeat longer, then he reached for the tea cup. "I'll get you more tea," he said. Juushiro watched as the man stood up and walked to the kitchen. His steps were graceful but firm, his lean frame radiating a sense of confidence that was reassuring yet foreign to Juushiro. _Why am I so surprised?_ Juushiro chided himself. After all, this was the man who groomed Kurosaki Ichigo, the man who set up the Tenka Kecchu, and the only man powerful enough to seal away Aizen. _I need to stop thinking of him as the gangly, quiet young man that he was._

Juushiro smiled as the blonde returned to hand him a full cup of tea. "Do you need to leave? Don't let me keep you," Juushiro said, aware that it must be well into the night by now.

"I'm not in a hurry," Kisuke said, sitting back down and crossed his legs. He looked around the room, taking in the simple decoration and potted plants. "This is a very relaxing place," he commented.

"Yes," Juushiro agreed. "Unfortunately for my subordinates, I tend to spend more time resting here than being at the office as I should."

Kisuke chuckled good-naturedly. "I see the adoration in their eyes when they look at you," he said, referring to the 3rd and 4th seats in Juushiro's division.

"Ah, Kiyone and Sentaro," Juushiro said fondly. "They will be death of me." Despite his words, his eyes lit up at the thought of his loyal subordinates.

"You are fortunate," Kisuke replied. He rested an elbow on his thigh and placed his cheek against the open palm.

Juushiro noted the faraway look in the younger man's eyes and wondered what was going on in that brilliant mind. But in a blink of an eye, those grey eyes became alert and bright once more. _Are you secretly reminiscing after all, Kisuke?_ Juushiro's eyes wandered to Kisuke's clothes and noticed for the first time how similar it was to a captain's haori. _Coincidence?_

Lost in his thoughts, Juushiro's eyes became half-lidded, and he suddenly realized that he was bone-tired. It was always like this after an attack; he usually required two or three days' rest before he could get back on his feet. Feeling dispirited at his own condition, he breathed a soft sigh.

"You should sleep," Kisuke said, uncurling his legs to stand up.

Juushiro sat up and grimaced when he felt his sleeping kimono stick to his skin, damp from the cold sweat he must have shed during the attack. "Not before I take a bath," he said, making a face.

He propped himself up on his palms and attempted to stand up. He smiled triumphantly when he managed to lift his upper body off the mattress. But, as he began to put his weight on his legs, they suddenly folded under him, and he toppled backwards.

Once again he felt his shoulders enveloped by a pair of strong hands as Kisuke caught him. Juushiro's cheeks colored in shame, and he clenched his jaw in frustration. _Weak! Pathetic!_

Gently laying Juushiro back down on his mattress, Kisuke gave the captain a reassuring squeeze on the shoulders before standing up. Juushiro watched inquiringly as the man picked up the small bucket by the wall and disappeared into the bathroom. Suddenly realizing what this meant, Juushiro's cheeks flared. _Surely he doesn't intend to_ —


	4. Chapter 4

When Kisuke returned from the bathroom with a fresh bucket of warm water and a clean towel— _how did he know where to find them?_ —Juushiro's breath quickened. He hoped fervently that the man would leave the bucket for him and go, but much to his mortification, Kisuke knelt down next to him, showing no sign of leaving. Too embarrassed to speak, Juushiro stared dumbly at Kusike's hands as the man wrung the towel dry.

"Well?" Kisuke asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Huh?" Juushiro blinked in confusion as the man paused, his hand draped over the bucket as if he was waiting for something. When silence stretched, Kisuke tugged at his own collar with an amused smile on his face. "Oh!" Juushiro said, feeling more than a little foolish. Hands trembling from embarrassment, he untied the loose knot around his waist and allowed his sleeping kimono to fall open, revealing his pale, toned torso. Then, he hesitated. _What do I do now? Should I take it all off...?_

Juushiro's eyes flicked to Kisuke's face and caught the man's questioning gaze. Cringing inwardly, Juushiro peeled the garment off his shoulders. When the kimono finally pooled around his waist, he looked down at his lap silently, feeling _very_ uncomfortable.

If Kisuke noticed Juushiro's flushed face, he kept it to himself. He shrugged off his coat and rolled up his sleeves, then, he smoothed out the bunched-up towel and set to work. Placing one hand protectively on Juushiro's back, his other hand gently glided over Juushiro's shoulder and chest, the damp, warm towel heaven on Juushiro's skin. After a while, the white-haired captain gave a contented sigh as his tired muscles gradually relaxed.

The room was silent except for the occasional low sound of water splashing in the bucket as Kisuke dipped the towel in it.

"Your hand," Kisuke said as he reached out for Juushiro's hand. The captain flinched a little when Kusike's warm hand grasped his, and he watched quietly as Kisuke lifted his arm and wrapped the towel around the thin limb. Juushiro's skin flushed from the friction, and he felt Kisuke's touch become even lighter as the man tried to be gentler.

Once that arm was clean, Kisuke turned to rinse the towel. Juushiro risked a glance at the younger man; his face was serious, eyes focused on the task at hand, his messy blond hair partially covering his face. Watching the muscles flex as Kisuke wrung out the towel, Juushiro suddenly blushed and felt his heart beat a little faster. _Don't be ridiculous, he's just a boy._

Whether Kisuke didn't notice the unusual shade of color on Juushiro's face or he simply chose to ignore it, Juushiro wasn't sure. Satisfied that the towel was ready, Kisuke moved closer to Juushiro— _oh god_ —and leaned in to wipe his abdomen. The man was so close that Juushiro could feel Kisuke's breath against his scalp, and he gulped. The towel—and hand—moved to Juushiro's stomach, and, much to his horror, he felt a stir between his legs.

He didn't even realize that he had been holding his breath until Kisuke suddenly asked, "Are you alright?"

Slowly letting out a shaky breath, Juushiro nodded, keeping his eyes averted. When the towel left his stomach, a wave of relief washed over him, and his tense muscles uncoiled. He jumped slightly when he felt fingers tickle the back of his neck. Turning, he realized that Kisuke was holding his hair up and looking at him expectantly. Eyes widening in understanding, Juushiro pointed to a chest of drawers behind Kisuke. There was a soft shuffling sound, then Juushiro suddenly felt a not-so-gentle tug on the back of his head; Kisuke, who'd never had long hair in his life, appeared to have some trouble tying Juushiro's hair.

"Here," Juushiro offered, holding out his palm.

Kisuke sat back and watched as the older man pulled his hair easily into a ponytail and brought it to the front, letting his long, white hair spill over his chest. His hair now out of the way, Juushiro took a deep breath and waited. He heard shuffling of feet, then felt the hair on the back of his neck rise as Kisuke's breath ghosted against his skin. He subconsciously closed his eyes and sighed at the sensation; it felt so comfortable.

"You should go out in the sun once in a while," Kisuke commented with a chuckle as he rubbed the towel over Juushiro's back. The hand that had been supporting Juushiro's back went up to grip a shoulder to hold the older man in place.

Juushiro laughed. "I try to," he said, feeling wistful. "I tend to not last very long out there." He heard water splash as Kisuke's hands left his body to rinse the towel. He felt a stab of disappointment at the sudden loss of Kisuke's warm touch, and his cheeks flushed. It had been a long time since he felt such closeness to another person, and apparently his body missed it...a little too much.

His body broke out in goosebumps when the warm towel returned. He heard Kisuke hum softly as he worked his hand expertly over Juushiro's back, and for a brief moment, Juushiro found himself wondering if the man had done this before to someone else. As his thoughts wandered, he felt his other arm being lifted gently. Once again, for a split second, Kisuke's breath tickled the side of his face, and Juushiro forgot to breathe.

"Kisuke-san..." Juushiro whispered.

"Hmm?" The younger man stopped and looked up at Juushiro, his hands cradling Juushiro's hand, which he had been wiping.

For a moment their eyes locked; Kisuke's grey eyes inquiring and Juushiro's glazed over with exhaustion and a little confusion. Juushiro couldn't understand why he felt so troubled when Kisuke was obviously unaffected by this intimate act. "N-nothing," he said after a pause.

Kisuke arched an eyebrow and let go of the captain's hand. "What is it?" he asked in a concerned voice. "Did it get worse? Do you need to lie down?"

"N-no." Juushiro's voice came out so soft that he nearly couldn't recognize his own voice. He felt a little breathless, his heart beating irregularly in his chest. But he knew it wasn't from his illness. _Too much, too warm, too..._

A palm covered Juushiro's forehead. "No fever," Kisuke said. "Excuse my bluntness, but you look really bad."

Juushiro nodded numbly and looked away. All he could really hear was his heartbeat echoing in his head. _Thump. Thump thump. Thump_. Kisuke's voice seemed distant.

"Okaaay, let's get you back under the covers," Kisuke announced. He pulled up the sleeping kimono from Juushiro's waist and draped it over the older man's shoulders and arms, then, he leaned in closer to pick up the thin _obi_. Juushiro felt Kisuke's hair graze his forehead and suddenly, his vision blurred.

"Kisuke-san..." he said, not really understanding why he needed to say the man's name.

The blonde turned his head to look at Juushiro.

For a moment, Juushiro's world stopped when he looked into the man's worried eyes. _So close...so...close..._ Kisuke's face was barely two inches away, so close that Juushiro could feel his breath on his face. He caught the light scent of green tea, then, he did the unthinkable.


	5. Chapter 5

_So warm...so wet...so...soft..._

Juushiro tasted the light grassy flavor of his favorite tea on those soft lips, lips that had been frozen in place even as he gently caressed them with his tongue. His eyes had closed on their own accord, his breath shallow. Heat from the body in front of him was so tempting, so alluring, and he subconsciously leaned forward to be even closer to the—

Suddenly aware of what he was doing, Juushiro snapped out of it. Pulling back in horror, he stared into a pair of large, very surprised eyes. Their owner, his messy blond hair draped over part of his face, stared back, unblinking.

"Oh god," Juushiro whispered, his hand instinctively flying to cover his mouth, his cheeks flaring as if they were on fire. Heat spread to the rest of his face, down his neck, even to his chest. His fingers went cold as his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. _What have I done?_

" _Ukitake-taicho?_ " After a long, awkward moment of silence, Kisuke finally found his voice. He had also pulled away, half-squatting, half-sitting next to the mattress where Juushiro's knees were.

"Oh god." The white-haired captain had no other words to say, his mouth suddenly dry. Yet at the same time the taste of tea lingered on his tongue, cruelly reminding him that it had not been a dream.

Kisuke's features softened as he took in Juushiro's flustered, panicky appearance. His eyes kind, he inched closer. "What happened?" he asked, his voice gentle and non-confrontational. His question, although sounding so obviously unnecessary, held many others. _Why? What is this? What does this mean? Are you okay? I'm worried._

Juushiro averted his eyes in shame. Did he really crave for companionship that badly? Or was it just an urge triggered by fond, painful memories of the innocent young man from years ago?

"Hey." A smooth palm cupped Juushiro's cheek and turned his face around. The captain lifted his eyes to look at the man kneeling next to him. "It's okay," Kisuke said softly. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry," Juushiro whispered, embarrassment clear in the tremor in his voice. His eyes flicked to the concerned face in front of him, and he looked away again quickly.

"I said it's okay," Kisuke said, his voice a little firmer than before.

Juushiro stared down at his own hands. "Y-you...you should leave," he said, fully aware that he had crossed a line and had probably shattered the last traces of friendship that was left between them. His breath came in soft pants, not from arousal this time, but from nervousness and regret.

"Which part of _it's okay_ do you not understand?" Annoyance crept into Kisuke's voice as he turned Juushiro's face around again. "I'm a grown man, I can handle this." The statement was strong, radiating a hidden message of _listen to me!_

Juushiro blinked. His mind once again flew back to that day. _Two rows of captains stood in the room, with the Soutaicho standing at the front. On the opposite end, stood a nervous-looking young man with a shock of messy blond hair. His gait was a little awkward, the haori draped over his shihakusho a little lopsided. Clearly, the man was not feeling very confident of himself even though he had earned the position as the captain of the 12th division. Yet, his eyes were bright and intelligent, his ambitions and eagerness clear in his reiatsu._

Another blink, and Juushiro was yanked back to present day. That same man, with the same head of messy, unruly blond hair, was right here within his reach. Except, those bright eyes now shone with a gleam of wisdom and maturity. Juushiro flinched when he suddenly felt warmth of skin under his fingers; he hadn't even realized that he had subconsciously reached out to touch the hand that was holding his face.

"You've...grown up," Juushiro muttered, more to himself than to Kisuke.

Kisuke laughed good-naturedly. "I've grown _old_ ," he corrected. "I'm not a kid anymore, _senpai_." His eyes regarded the older man with a hint of fondness; this was one of the first people who believed in him. He remembered that day too. He remembered standing in the room fidgeting in the sombre atmosphere, his skin crawling under the critical gaze from the other captains. There was one that stood out; Ukitake-taicho, one of the oldest captains in Gotei 13, looked at him with understanding, encouraging eyes. _You're alright, you'll be okay_.

Now, that same man sat shivering in front of him. He looked at the dark lashes framing those green eyes, the pale smooth skin, and the lips that had just touched his own. Now it's _his_ turn to say it; _you're alright, you'll be okay._

"Hey," Kisuke said. When Juushiro looked inquiring at him, he tilted the man's head slightly. Juushiro's eyes widened as Kisuke leaned in, then fluttered close as their lips connected.

Juushiro's heart sprang up to his throat. He felt Kisuke's tongue trace his lower lip, coaxing him to part his lips, and he complied. Once again he tasted tea; the flavor light but familiar, the warmth from the lips and tongue in his mouth comforting. The kiss was slow; they explored each other almost shyly, the contact tender, unhurried.

Juushiro moaned softly into their kiss, and Kisuke answered by gently sucking on his lower lip. _I hear you_. _I understand._

Vaguely, Juushiro felt his kimono slip off one shoulder. The sudden coldness was immediately replaced by a warm hand; Kisuke stroked Juushiro's shoulder and arm reassuringly, using his own body heat to provide warmth to the ill captain.

 _This really is happening_. Juushiro's pulse raced, making him dizzy, but he was aware that he was slowly being guided onto his back. He could feel Kisuke's palm cradling the back of neck as he was lowered onto the mattress, and he felt...safe.

"Juushiro." Hearing Kisuke say his name without honorifics sent a sudden thrill through his body. With a small gasp, Juushiro gripped the younger man's clothes a little tighter and pulled the man closer. He felt the mattress dip as Kisuke shifted to position himself on top of him. When he felt Kisuke's legs on either side of his hips, his face flushed fiercely. Knowledge of what would happen next warmed his loins, and he broke the kiss to take in a deep breath to calm himself.

Hovering above Juushiro, Kisuke supported his own weight on his knees and palms, his lower body lightly brushing against the captain's. Panting slightly, he leaned down to place light pecks along Juushiro's pale neck. When he came to the older man's collarbone, he thought he could hear the man's heartbeat, and he paused. _Thump thump. Thump thump thump. Thump._ He listened carefully and realized that it _was_ Juushiro's heartbeat, irregular and fast. He looked up in concern.

"I'm fine," Juushiro whispered hoarsely. After a pause, he added, his voice so low it was barely audible, "Please...don't stop."

Kisuke looked skeptical, clearly unconvinced that Juushiro was _fine_. Nevertheless, after a short pause, he returned his attention to Juushiro's neck.

Juushiro turned his head to the side, allowing Kisuke more access to the sensitive skin below his ear. The younger man's erratic breathing at his ear brought a moan to his lips. He heard Kisuke chuckle softly at his reaction, and he blushed. With a determined frown, Juushiro reached down and searched, his fingers stumbling blindly over robes, his own thighs, Kisuke's thigh, and then—there! He wrapped his graceful fingers over the hardness between Kisuke's legs, and heard—to his satisfaction—a muffled cry from Kisuke. Juushiro grinned, feeling triumphant in an almost child-like manner, and allowed himself to laugh under his breath.

"Are we...in a playful mood today?" Kisuke's eyebrows arched in amusement as he pulled away and propped himself up on his palms.

Juushiro flashed him a smile, and Kisuke lifted a hand to cup the older man's face. He trailed a finger down the side of Juushiro's face, his chin, then up to his lips. As Juushiro shuddered in anticipation, the hand slowly moved down his neck, over his collarbone, over his chest, his abdomen...then his eyes rolled back in his head.

 _Warm, glorious friction._ That was the only thing on Juushiro's mind as Kisuke stroked him slowly, almost teasingly. His moans came out sounding suspiciously like sobs as he felt himself harden even more under the Kisuke's touches. Groggily, he raised a hand to grip Kisuke's arm, his nails digging into the flesh with every wave of pleasure.

 _I must have died and gone to heaven_.


	6. Chapter 6

Kisuke looked down at the white-haired captain lying next to him; the man's eyes were partially covered by a fringe of dark lashes, his cheeks pink, pale lips apart to take in small, shaky breaths. Almost inaudible moans escaped those lips as the man shuddered under Kisuke's touches. Each sound threatened to break Kisuke's self-control, and he bit his lower lip and took heavy breaths through his nose as he fought the rising urge to tend to his own need.

Earlier, he had moved to lie on his side next to Juushiro. Propping his upper body up on one elbow, his other hand continued to caress the captain, his fingers gently exploring the man's inner thigh, arousal, and everywhere around it. He watched the man's face intently and listened to every sound, slowly learning where and what brings the most pleasure. Every time Juushiro's moans came out loud and long, Kisuke's fingers would linger at the spot, massaging it until he could feel the man tremble against his body.

Juushiro opened his eyes, his mind in a haze of pleasure and contentment. He raised an arm to stroke Kisuke's arm and sighed. "Kisuke..." he whispered very, very softly, turning to his head to the side to nuzzle the man's chest. "I—" he began. _I want to give, too._ He snaked his hand down along his own thigh to seek out Kisuke, then, he brushed his fingers on Kisuke's arousal.

Kisuke's hand left Juushiro to grab Juushiro's wrist. "No," Kisuke said hoarsely. _Tonight is about you, not me._

Juushiro frowned. "But you—"

His words were once again cut off as Kisuke leaned down to his ear to whisper, "Not until you I hear you cry out my name as you..." Kisuke let his sentence trail off as he looked into Juushiro's eyes suggestively. Watching the captain's eyes widen—in surprise? shyness?—Kisuke hooked a leg over the older man's and pulled it towards himself. This allowed him more access to the warm, sensitive area between Juushiro's legs, and he let his fingers wander over Juushiro's sack, pausing to massage the soft, fragile organ.

Juushiro's hips bucked at the touch, and he let out a sound—a delicious mix of a sob, a growl, and a moan. Kisuke clenched his eyes close and stilled, holding his breath as his manhood throbbed painfully, aroused by Juushiro's voice. With supreme effort, he finally regained control over himself. He let out an unsteady sigh of relief, then looked into Juushiro's green eyes.

"You're making this really, _really_ difficult for me," he grumbled playfully.

Juushiro grinned, feeling immensely satisfied that he was making Kisuke this flustered. "You don't have to—"

"Shhh..." Kisuke hushed him, then bent down to capture Juushiro's lips in a quick, gentle kiss. "I _want_ to."

"Okay." After a pause, Juushiro finally relented reluctantly. _After this_ , he promised Kisuke silently, a _fter this, I will make it up to you._ His eyes fluttered closed once more when Kisuke's touches returned. This time, he allowed himself to simply melt into the pleasure. His hips rose involuntarily to press harder against Kisuke's hand. _More..._

Then, suddenly, he was there, teetering at the edge; his senses narrowed to one thing and one thing only. _Kisuke!_ Another firm but gentle stroke was all it took to push him off the cliff, and he tumbled. He felt his vision darken as he was enveloped in an intense wave of pleasure, his ears ringing yet hearing nothing.

Only Kisuke heard Juushiro's cry; a single loud, hoarse cry of his name.


	7. Chapter 7

Juushiro wasn't sure if he was floating or sinking, his mind unable to understand the sudden onslaught of pleasure and emotions. By the time he became aware of his surroundings again, he opened his eyes to find Kisuke's concerned face hovering above his. That was when he heard rapid, shaky wheezes, and realized that the sounds were coming from his own lips as he struggled to regain his breath.

"Are you okay?" Kisuke asked as he leaned down to press his forehead against Juushiro's, his voice laced with worry and alarm.

Juushiro allowed himself a few more long, deep breaths before muttering a quiet "Yes". He reached up and wrapped his arms around Kisuke; the man was trembling slightly, whether from fear of seeing Juushiro on the verge of another attack, or from arousal, Juushiro couldn't tell. He stroked the man's back soothingly, until Kisuke's breaths became even again.

"Thank you," Juushiro said softly, his hand moving up from Kisuke's back to the back of his head. He gently raked his fingers through the man's soft blond hair, as though he was combing it back in place.

Kisuke lifted his head and held Juushiro's chin to tilt the man's head upwards, then bent down to plant a light kiss on Juushiro's parted lips. The captain's grip on Kisuke's hair tightened to pull the man closer while he tried to prop himself so that he could press his body into Kisuke's. His weakened arm strained under the pressure, and he let out an involuntary gasp of pain.

Juushiro was immediately guided back onto the mattress. "You shouldn't exert yourself," Kisuke said with a frown.

"But I—" Juushiro began to protest. _I want to give you what you've just given me._

Kisuke must've read his message from his expression, because his features immediately softened in understanding and his lips curled up with a hint of a smile. "Next time," he said gently. He was throbbing painfully between his legs, but he couldn't imagine Juushiro reciprocating the act in his current condition.

Instead of arguing, Juushiro simply took the younger man's hand and guided it to his own groin, over his gradually-softened manhood, and down to his entrance. Then, pressing Kisuke's hand firmly against himself, he looked up into Kisuke's face. For a moment the two men just stared at each other in silence.

"Are you sure?" Kisuke asked carefully. It was a precious gift, but Kisuke would only accept it if it were not given at the spur of the moment, or worse, out of guilt.

Juushiro tightened his grip on Kisuke's wrist. "I want this," he said with a reassuring smile at the younger man.

Kisuke hesitated for a while before he finally smiled back. "Thank you," Kisuke bent down to whisper in the older man's ear.

Juushiro released his hold and watched as Kisuke disrobed. His eyes took in every ripple of muscle, every outline of the man's lean frame, until every piece of clothing landed on the floor. His pulse quickened at the sight of Kisuke's toned torso and the light blond trail leading down the man's erection. _This is it_ , he thought, telling himself that he will be okay.

But, truth be told, he was _terrified_ , because, this was...his first time.

"Do you have some massage oil that I may use?" Kisuke interrupted his thoughts. Nodding, he pointed to the same cabinet that held his hair tie, and Kisuke soon returned with a delicate bottle of scented oil, which Juushiro normally used on his temples to calm himself after a coughing fit.

Juushiro flinched involuntarily when he felt Kisuke's hands on his inner thighs. Telling himself again that he will be okay, he took a deep breath and shifted his legs to let Kisuke kneel between his knees. He knew, of course, that he really had nothing to fear, for this was Kisuke, and Kisuke would never hurt him. Still, his heart refused to calm down as his senses heightened in anticipation.

Then, he caught the familiar scent of the oil and he immediately clung to that as if it was his security blanket, and he found himself able to breathe again.

His tense appearance did not escape Kisuke's notice. "We can stop," he said gently.

"No," Juushiro said, trying to act nonchalant, but knew he had failed the minute he heard his own voice.

"We should stop," Kisuke said, caressing Juushiro's thighs reassuringly. "It's okay." He moved backwards, but was immediately pinned in place when the captain wrapped his legs around his waist.

"No," Juushiro repeated, louder this time, a determined frown on his face. _Juushiro you idiot, now you've gone and made him worried._

After a stretch of silence, Kisuke's eyes suddenly widened as realization dawned. His features softened and he leaned down, placing his palms on either sides of Juushiro's shoulders. "Is this your..."

Juushiro felt his cheeks light up as he turned his head to the side and nodded. He didn't really understand his own conflicted emotions and hesitation. He wanted this, that much he was certain. So, what was he _really_ afraid of?

"Do you trust me?" Kisuke's whisper was so soft that Juushiro almost missed it. He nodded and cupped the blonde's face. "I'll take care of you," Kisuke promised softly before brushing his lips lightly on Juushiro's.

Then, he went back to kneel between Juushiro's legs, caressing those long, pale limbs soothingly. Tucking his arm under Juushiro's knees, he coaxed the man to bend his knees a little, then he drizzled some of Juushiro's oil on his palm. The scent of the oil immediately calmed Juushiro's nerves, and he closed his eyes and relaxed.

He felt it then; a foreign, uncomfortable pressure at his sensitive entrance. For a moment the pressure was almost negligible, then his eyes widened with a start when he felt a burning pain as Kisuke's finger began to slide in. Heart racing, he blinked rapidly to distract himself, but his breath involuntarily quickened. He felt his inner thigh being stroked gently as Kisuke tried to comfort him. After what seemed like an eternity to Juushiro, Kisuke's finger finally stilled.

"How are you doing?" Kisuke asked, looking up into the older man's face. Juushiro was panting softly, his cheeks bright pink, his brows slightly furrowed, but the pair of green eyes that stared back at Kisuke were encouraging.

Kisuke smiled, then he licked his lips. He needed a distraction for what he was going to do next; using his free hand, he slowly stroked the hardness in front of him, and Juushiro hissed under his breath at the unexpected sensation. Gently twisting his finger, Kisuke bent down and took Juushiro in his mouth.

The effect was instant; Juushiro's hips snapped up and he let out a breathless groan. Kisuke's mouth continued to work as he slowly added another slicked finger. He braced himself for a howl of pain, struggling, anything, but all he heard was a soft hiss followed by loud, ragged breaths. Keeping Juushiro's tip in his mouth, Kisuke looked up to check on Juushiro and found the man staring straight at him.

Juushiro shuddered; feeling Kisuke's mouth was already arousing in itself, but to have the man looking _right_ at him while he was doing it was...something else. He felt the second finger— _and it hurt_ —but Kisuke's tongue and lips at least made it bearable. He gripped the sheets, feeling his skin stretch over the knuckles as he tightened his fists.

 _Pain_. _Pleasure._ Juushiro's mind took in both sensations and mixed them into a delicious cocktail, and his body reveled in it. He felt Kisuke's fingers move in him, felt them twist, scissor—stretching him until the pain faded into a dull ache, lingering at the corner of his mind but no longer dominating his senses.

Kisuke let Juushiro's length slide out of his mouth as he focused on preparing the man for the next step. Ah, but first, he wanted to find it. Closing his eyes to heighten his sense of touch, Kisuke rotated his fingers within the tight muscles until his palm faced upward, then drew the fingers out slightly and curled them. Patiently, he stroked, rubbed, and massaged the upper wall, waiting for the signal.

Juushiro was a little confused as Kisuke simply stared at him and silently worked his fingers. He could feel the movements inside, but he was clueless about wha— _oh!_ His eyes flew shut and he bit down on his lower lip when a wave of unexpected pleasure hit him. Kisuke recognized it immediately, and his fingers lingered there. His free hand went back to Juushiro's erection and stroked ever-so-slowly. He could _see_ the older man tremble, could see his knuckles turn white, and could feel the man throb in his hand.

If he read all those correctly, Juushiro was ready.


	8. Chapter 8

Juushiro held his breath and stared into the eyes of the man above him; earlier, when Kisuke drew out his fingers and coaxed him to spread his legs wider, he understood what would follow. Having felt how gentle the younger man was in preparing him, Juushiro felt a little better. A tinge of fear still lingered, but seeing Kisuke's warm grey eyes made it recede further into the back of his mind.

His eyes fluttered closed when Kisuke leaned in to capture his lips in a tender kiss, and he allowed himself to melt into a flurry of lips and tongue. Then, he felt it. The now-familiar pressure returned, except this was... _oh_. He gasped, louder than he had intended to, and trembled as the pressure built, and built, until it became the burning ache that he had felt before. Kisuke had used the oil liberally, but Juushiro's muscles still protested as Kisuke pushed forward.

"Look at me," Kisuke whispered, and Juushiro complied. _It's okay, you can trust me. I'll take care of you_. A small smile crept onto Juushiro's face as he nodded. Still, tears pooled at the corner of Juushiro's eyes on their own accord, and as Kisuke entered deeper, a single tear ran down the side of Juushiro's face. Kisuke pressed his lips on the older man's eyelid and kissed the trail left behind by the tear.

Kisuke didn't want to go in all the way at once, preferring to alternate between pulling back and thrusting in, advancing only a tiny, tiny bit with each thrust. The pace was agonizing for him; every muscle in his body urged him to slam home in one stroke, but he refused to cave into his instincts. No, this was Juushiro's gift to him, and he would cherish it, accept it as delicately as he could. And so he gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and rolled his hips gently.

Juushiro felt himself being stretched; it felt strange, foreign, yet knowing that it was Kisuke _inside_ of him warmed his heart, and his face flushed. The slight frown on the younger man's face and the way his jaw flexed told Juushiro that Kisuke was holding back, and Juushiro suddenly found himself yearning for _more_. He wanted _all_ of Kisuke.

"You can let go," Juushiro said softly, bringing a hand up to cup the younger man's face. "It's okay, let yourself go."

Kisuke's breath hitched at the encouragement. No, he could not, he _would_ not. He was afraid of what he would do if he didn't control himself.

"It's okay, you won't hurt me," Juushiro whispered. "I trust you."

Kisuke looked into those warm, supportive green eyes and found his resolve waver. "I—" he began, and was immediately silenced by a finger on his lips. He fought to calm himself, then, when he felt a hand grip his thigh and tugged, everything crumbled.

With a low growl, Kisuke snapped his hips.

Juushiro's gasped out loud at the sensation; it _burned_ , it filled him, and...he loved it. He heard Kisuke groan, a deep, almost-primal sound, and he felt himself throb. _More, more.._.

Kisuke stopped moving; he was now sheathed to the hilt, and he trembled as he fought for his breath. The tightness and heat threatened to drive him into a frenzy, but he couldn't, he _mustn't_ give in, because despite what Juushiro believed, he _could_ hurt the man if he let go completely. And he would rather die a thousand painful deaths before he hurt Juushiro.

"Move," Juushiro said hoarsely. " _Move_."

Kisuke almost sobbed at the quiet command. The need in Juushiro's voice was clear, and it only served to increase Kisuke's own desperate, overwhelming need; need for pleasure that he had been denying himself since the beginning. _Control, control_ , he reminded himself as he pulled out. Then, he closed his eyes and thrust forward. A cry escaped his lips as he was once again enveloped in trembling, delicious heat.

Over and over again, he rolled his hips; he did not hear his own moans, nor his strangled cries of Juushiro's name. He did not see Juushiro arch his back, did not feel the pain from Juushiro's nails digging into his arms.

By now, Juushiro had picked up the rhythm of their lovemaking, and he raised his hips to meet every thrust, groaning each time he felt himself stretched to the limit. His hair was damp with sweat, and his arms trembled as he clung to Kisuke. He was vaguely aware of his name being called, and he responded with his own murmurs of Kisuke's name.

He understood now, the reason of his fear in the beginning. He was afraid of Kisuke seeing him so undone, so...completely exposed and vulnerable as he offered himself to the younger man. But he also knew now that his fear was completely unnecessary. Because, as he watched the raw emotions on Kisuke's face, he realized that Kisuke was also offering himself to Juushiro.

As his body rocked in time to Kisuke's thrusts, Juushiro felt himself approaching his limit. He held his breath in an attempt to hold it back, but the pleasure only increased. "Wait! I'm—" he cried out, tightening his grip on Kisuke's already-bruised arms. "Stop—"

Kisuke didn't stop. Instead, he bent down to claim Juushiro lips and murmured into their kiss, "Together..."

Juushiro nodded and echoed, "Together." Then, he closed his eyes and let go. He felt Kisuke throb inside of him, and with a loud cry, he reached his peak. His body arched and his toes curled as he rode the wave of his climax, only vaguely aware of the sudden warmth on his stomach. He heard Kisuke's breathy growl as the man attained his own release, and Juushiro's eyes watered.

The room was silent except for ragged, erratic pants from the two men; Kisuke rested his forehead on Juushiro's for a moment, then, he collapsed on top of the older man. Juushiro gave a soft grunt at the impact, but he didn't move. That was when he realized that his legs were wrapped tightly around Kisuke's waist; he had no clue when he'd done it, but it felt so comfortable, so _right_ , that he didn't want to let go.

Kisuke lost track of the time, but when he opened his eyes again he found himself sprawled on top of Juushiro. Startled, he propped himself up on an elbow and blinked; did he actually pass out? He began to roll off of Juushiro's body, but was immediately pinned in place; Juushiro's green eyes regarded him in amusement, the man's hand on Kisuke's back to hold him against his body.

"Hi," Juushiro said, his face still flushed. Stray strands of white hair lay matted against his cheek, giving him a disheveled look quite unlike his usual poised appearance.

Kisuke chuckled and reached over to brush the hair off of Juushiro's cheek. "Hi."

"I don't feel like moving," Juushiro said with a hint of playfulness as he gently stroked Kisuke's back.

"Okay." Kisuke grinned and nuzzled the older man's neck. "I'm not in a hurry."

Yes, trouble continued to brew in the horizon, but for the moment Kisuke didn't care. As Juushiro's breathing eventually tapered off into a smooth, steady rhythm, Kisuke closed his eyes and let sleep claim him. Tonight, just tonight, he allowed himself—for once—to relax and simply be...himself.


End file.
